


Exulting in the Present

by Chibifukurou



Category: Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Gen, Misses Clause Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:32:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibifukurou/pseuds/Chibifukurou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Koriand'r finds Jason on her beach, she considers pushing him back into his watery grave. She doesn't recognize his scent, and faces are too hard to keep ahold of within her memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Exulting in the Present

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NixieD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NixieD/gifts).



> A huge thank you to my beta for taking this story on despite my many flaws as a writer, and their own limited knowledge of the fandom.
> 
>  
> 
> I went a little off of canon with the fic, since I tend to think of Tamaranians as being at least partial touch telepaths, since they understand others use of language through kissing. All religious things are based of the idea of a sun-worshiping race. I am unsure what, if any, actual religious rituals Starfire would participate in.

Koriand'r brings the warship down to the clear blue seas of Earth's southern hemisphere. The ship is falling to pieces, and there are safer places she could land it. Even as she lands, a portion of the hull plating falls off into the sea.

She doesn't consider turning to more populated areas for more than a moment. It is not her way, being dependent on others. Not since the moment her rage had exploded out to encompass The Citadel.

She has been free for years. That does not mean the scars have left her. So it is easier to land the ship here in an uninhabited portion of this planet than to go looking for old partners. There is no one here to know if her mind turns to the uniform she has hidden safely away in a storage bin a few levels down.

She turns her mind back to the present danger, the better to avoid thinking about the past. Even with the damaged power core and hull, she is able to land the ship in the cove of a small island. The cliff face that surrounds the beaches will give shelter to the damaged portion of her ship. The rocks will also make it hard for anyone to pick her up by satellite scan.

Once the ship is safely ensconced in her new home, she allows herself to rest. She sleeps for two straight daylight cycles. The cool comfort of her quarters is restful, but leaves her low on power.

Stripping down to her skin she flies from the ship to embrace the sun. The island is not like the temples of home, and Earth's sun is not nearly as potent as the sun of Tamaran. Still, she landed near the equator for a reason. The radiation will be strong enough to fuel her power, even if it takes longer to charge.

She flies to the top of the cliff-face just as the sun blooms over the horizon. She lets her fall, until her feet are hit the rocky ground. Then she raises her arms in a gesture of exaltation. Sunlight touches her fingertips, then her hands, until her entire body is engulfed. It is bliss, transcendent. With her body surrounded in light, nothing else matters. She can let go of even her lightest attempts to force concentration on the movement of this world.

It is like coming home and existing in a dream all at once. Everything is light and joyous.

# # #

When Koriand'r finds Jason on her beach, she considers pushing him back into his watery grave. She doesn't recognize his scent, and faces are too hard to keep ahold of within her memory.

If she touches him, she'll be able to get a low level read on who he is, and if she should care about him. The day had been so enjoyable before this. The morning mists had burned off early and sky was a clear vibrant blue. Already she could feel her attention turning back towards her exultation.

This bloody human with his strange animal skin clothes and wounds that cover him from feet to head. He is not something she believes that she wants to exult.

Even if she doesn't push him back into the water he'll die anyway. So she leaves him. She has her morning worship. If he survives until her return she will consider him worthy of exulting.

Then she will decide if he is worth the trouble of saving.

# # #

Jason is stronger than she had expected. By the time she makes it back from her worship, he has not only survived but managed to claw himself further up the beach so that the grasping tide cannot drag him under.

She sighs, but X'Hal provides her children with guidance through her providence. Reaching down, Koriand'r tilts Jason's head up so that she can press her lips to his. It lacks finesse, but a kiss is the simplest way to exult someone. When their lips meet, she gets an impression of darkness and grit. There is a familiar city and the silhouette of a bat burned into the deepest regions of his mind.

Jason is not the one whose uniform she has in her ship, but the impression of him is similar, particularly the city and the bat. There is rage in him that has nothing to do with the other man. It is a rage she can relate to, though. When she pulls her lips away from his she has already made her decision.

Koriand'r picks Jason up and carries him into her ship. The med bay is still functional. It is not meant for humans, but she can adapt. Once she has him settled into a makeshift pallet in medbay, she has the computer run a full body skin.

There is severe soft tissue damage to the entire midsection of his body, a hairline crack in his skull, and three gunshot wounds. There are also signs of extensive if not prolonged torture.

It takes a matter of minutes to set up a basic nutrient formula in an intravenous injector. A basic nanite salve sees to the gunshot wounds and deeper lacerations.

 Then it is just a matter of waiting. Never one of her better qualities, but she has no doubt that whenever he wakes up he will find her. So there is no need for her to sit around and wait for him.

Instead she goes to the lower floors of the ship, and the items that are stored there. There are the old uniforms from the man who she does and does not want to remember. Equally important though are the items from past missions with her team.

She has allowed herself to forget their names, and their faces. Harder to erase are the impressions that reside in her keepsakes. She considers them; her fingers hover over a bit of armor, and then a broken arrow.

There are so many memories here, waiting to be unlocked, but she still doesn't want to remember. Even if X'Hal has put a new person in place to force her to move away from her island, she has not left yet. For right now, the memories can stay where they are.

She will never allow her past to define her. She had made that promise to herself when she escaped the Citadel: never again would she define herself by anyone else's idea of who or what she should be.


End file.
